May Fever
by tofu-melon
Summary: /FujiRyo/ Ryoma tends to let his fever talk whenever he's sick. But it's not like Fuji minds.


Happy (late) Birthday to you, Cloudy Moonshine. You a girl's best friend.

**May Fever**

It was May, a time of the year when spring is slowly beginning to change into summer and the jackets were being hung up in the closets for another winter.

It was a time where children would all laugh and poke at each other's sunburns, pointing at their friends' red faces and shoulders, then at their own. Then their parents would bring out fans that were put away in their closets and sit in front of them, relishing in the cool breeze and the gentle warmth.

It was a good time.

Except for one Echizen Ryoma.

"I'm fine."

"My poor baby," Rinko cooed, brushing back the sweat-damp hair off of her son's hot forehead. Ryoma instinctively leaned into it, liking how cool her hand was against his burning skin.

Nanjiroh stood beside the two, chewing down on the end of a toothpick, and he grinned easily at his fussing wife, "Kid's fine," he drawled, "Just a bit of rest and he'll be up in no time."

Rinko nodded to herself, not even hearing her husband in her worry, "I'll make some hot stew, would you like that Ryoma?"

The boy hesitated, pulling the covers up and over his face before he nodded shyly. Rinko smiled and bustled out, "Nanako—!" she called and closed the door behind her.

Nanjiroh shook his head, and leaned over his son, pulling the covers back down and tucking it under the boy's chin, "You just take it easy, okay kid?"

Ryoma pouted sadly, looking up at his father with wet eyes, "I have a test today," he said dolefully, "I studied… I need to take the test…" Nanjiroh stopped him with a smile and pressed his large hand against the boy's forehead and shushed him, "It's okay. You can take it when you're better. Just go to sleep."

"But…" and his eyes drooped, "but…"

"Shush. Your mom'll come up and wake you in about 30 minutes, so sleep for now."

Ryoma closed his eyes and relaxed into his pillow, and he let out a small sigh, "'kay."

Nanjiroh headed towards the door, "Sleep with your cover on, kid," he said and received a meek, "'night Dad." as he left and closed the door behind him, "A summer cold, huh?" the former pro muttered to himself.

"How is he?"

Nanjiroh smiled at his wife who was busy wringing her hands together and biting her lip, "Wants to be spoiled," he answered and received a small smile in return.

"Well, it can't be helped. He's like a baby again when he's feverish," the woman huffed. Ryoma didn't get sick very often, but when he did he tended to cling and whine more so then usual. Rinko would generally find it very endearing if only she wasn't so worried about her son's health, "Did you call the school?"

"Yep. Told them he'd be back tomorrow. The kid heals quick."

Rinko snorted, pressing her hands against her hips and he struck a superior pose, taunting her husband with a smirk, "That's _my_ superior gene, of course."

And Nanjiroh returned her expression, "As if I didn't know."

* * *

"Unya," Eiji called out, catching the regulars' attention when he realized one very important detail was missing from the locker room that day, "Where's Ochibi?"

Momoshiro straightened, buttoning down his school shirt, before answering, "His mom told me he was sick so he couldn't come."

Eiji gasped, a frown already on his face and Fuji came up behind the two with his own worries, "Oh, how disappointing. Perhaps we should go visit him?"

"I wish I could go!" the acrobatics player whined, stamping his foot in a fit, "But I don't have the time."

"Neither do I," Momoshiro admitted, looking very sorry as well. Fuji shrugged, it couldn't be helped, so he smiled at them reassuringly, "Oh, then perhaps I'll just stop by—"

"Ah!" A voice spoke up from behind the genius and Fuji turned to meet a wide-eyed Horio, "Fuji-senpai are you going over to Echizen's house?"

"Ah, perhaps."

"Then, um, do you mind giving Echizen his homework and notes? The teacher gave it to me because I said I'd do it, but I just remembered that I'll be busy today… so…"

Fuji easily took the offered folder from the boy with a smile, "I don't mind at all," he said and Horio bowed his head in thanks. Packing away the notes and homework into his own bookbag, Fuji fixed the collar on his uniform and turned to his friends, waving goodbye, "I'll be heading over to Echizen's now. I'll give him your regards."

"Make sure you don't catch sick too!" Eiji told him, already knowing that Fuji was going to cling onto Ryoma like glue since he hadn't seen him the whole day. Ever since the two had gotten together, Fuji felt as if he couldn't function correctly without at least hearing a "_mada mada dane_" from Ryoma.

Fuji only chuckled at Eiji's worries and shook his head, "If it means that Echizen will get better, then I'd happily take his illness," he said brightly and turned to leave, unaware of Eiji's narrowed eyes on his back and the redhead's muttered, "As usual, Fujiko-chan really is the most dangerous of us all."

"Eiji-senpai!"

* * *

Ryoma sniffled and reached over for the kleenex box next to his bed and blew into the tissue, trying to relieve himself from the stuffiness, but even still he did not feel much better.

"Ryoma, you shouldn't blow your nose so hard like that. You'll damage your ears and get a scar on your nose," Rinko reprimanded lightly and scooped up another spoonful of stew for her son. Ryoma sulked at his mother's words and buried himself deeper into his pillow, "But I feel bad."

"I know you do, sweetheart," Rinko cooed and pushed back Ryoma's fringe from his eyes, "So you need to eat and sleep a lot to get better right?"

Ryoma made a small noise in agreement and ate the food off the offered spoon and sniffed again.

He had been stuck in bed the whole day; not that he minded, he really wasn't up for walking just yet, and it was nice to sleep the whole day without worrying about tests or running laps because he'd been late for practice. But he missed playing tennis and being sick never felt very good.

Then the chime of the doorbell sounded from downstairs and Rinko stood up to get it. She placed the warm bowl of stew on Ryoma's lap and left it for him to eat while she went to open the door. Ryoma merely stared down at the steaming dish apathetically, not wanting to actually have to spoon it up to his mouth. He, instead, waited patiently for his mother to come back and stared expectantly into the hall when the shadow of an approaching person appeared.

The figure that came strolling down the hall and into his room, however, was not his mother but another smiling, familiar face, "Echizen, I heard you were sick."

Ryoma gurgled in response. Fuji's smile widened and he quickly sat down in the chair next to Ryoma's bed that Rinko was sitting in just a while ago. Ryoma glared weakly at the visitor and asked in his hoarse voice, "What are you doing here, Fuji-senpai?"

"Oh, how cold. Can't I see my sick boyfriend out of concern? Especially since I went out of my way to bring you your assignments. And make sure you were alright, of course."

Ryoma huffed and pulled his blanket over the bottom portion of his face, fever-dazed eyes peeking out over it, "I didn't particularly ask you to bring my homework."

Fuji chuckled demurely and shrugged his shoulders in response, "I'm being a good teammate and helping you out, I suppose. It wouldn't do for you to be behind, yes?"

"I'm smart," was Ryoma's answer.

Fuji could hear the pout in the response and held back his laughter at the boy's cute behavior, '_It must be the fever talking_.'

Ryoma was, of course, sharp and sarcastic in everything he said, but right now, possibly due to his illness, he could only mumble blunt retorts from behind his blanket. Fuji didn't mind of course, and was all too glad he did come alone. He didn't really want to share this cute side of Ryoma with anyone else, "How are you feeling?"

"Bad. Hungry."

Fuji's eyes fell upon the bowl on Ryoma's lap and motioned towards it with a hand, "Why aren't you eating then?"

"Mom's not here. I can't eat it by myself."

Fuji had no doubt that Ryoma _could_ eat it by himself, he just chose not to. So with a teasing grin, the brunet picked up the bowl of warm stew and scooted closer to Ryoma, "Do you want _me_ to feed you?"

The answer was immediate, "_NO_."

Fuji laughed softly and spooned up a bit of the stew, blowing on it to cool it down a bit before presenting to Ryoma who just glared at him, but seemed to be thinking it over a bit. And with slight, hesitant movements, the boy slowly sat up and stared at the spoon before he leaned over and took it into his mouth. Fuji pulled the spoon back, shoulders shaking from silent laughter, '_How cute. Like a kitten taking food from his new master's hand.'_

Ryoma gulped down the stew and looked at Fuji with his glazed eyes, considerably friendlier now than before, "Tennis?" he croaked and Fuji tilted his head to and fro in gesture, "It was okay. The weather was lovely, Eiji and Momo only ran twenty laps, and I won my game against Kaidoh."

The last part brought a weak smirk of arrogance on Ryoma's face, "Winning against Kaidoh-senpai is nothin' to brag about, Fuji-senpai."

Fuji covered his helpless smile with his hand, "Now, that isn't very nice. You know how much Kaidoh has improved and his stamina is even better my own," Fuji defended, feeling it was his duty as a friend, even though it was Ryoma's personality to bash on everyone and be painfully honest and blunt.

"You won," Ryoma reminded him simply and Fuji smiled indulgently, "That I did," he agreed and held out another spoonful of stew for Ryoma, who ate without hesitation.

"Did you just come to give me my homework?" Ryoma asked with a frown as he leaned back onto his pillow, "That's not a very good reason," he said matter-of-factly, sounding like an impudent child who did not get his way.

Fuji shrugged and scooted closer to the boy, laying a hand next to Ryoma's feverish cheek and feeling the pulsing heat on his own skin, "Well, I figured I might as take your cold from you so you'll get better," he whispered lowly and brushed a calloused thumb over Ryoma's hot skin, smiling when the boy let out a sigh at the feel his cold hand.

"Idiots don't catch colds," was the muttered response.

Feigning a wounded wince, Fuji leaned over the bedridden boy and gave him a pained smile, "How harsh, your words are like a knife in my heart, Echizen."

"I'm sure you know what that feels like."

"Fufu, even when you're ill, your tongue is quiet sharp," Fuji laid his hand over Ryoma's forehead and the boy's dark lashes fell together; there was a sigh of relief that escaped his dry lips, "Your fever has lessened. Maybe I really am taking away your cold?"

Ryoma smirked, eyes closed and voice still hoarse, "Don't be stupid, Fuji-senpai. That's not how you take away colds," and he reached up, wrapping his slender arms around Fuji's neck and bringing the other boy down to his level, lips brushing each other gingerly, "This is how."

Fuji smiled as he let Ryoma close the distance between the two.

The two just exchanged short kisses at first, their lips meeting then pulling away with soft, wet sounds. When the hold around his neck tightened, Fuji leaned in for a longer kiss, wetting Ryoma's lips with his tongue and smiling at the faint taste of Ryoma's cold medicine.

Slowly crawling up onto the bed, Fuji carefully pushed aside the bowl of stew and straddled Ryoma's waist. He slid a hand under Ryoma's loose pajama shirt, earning a quiet moan and a surprised flinch when his cold hand spread over Ryoma's fevered skin. The boy shifted under him, resting his knee heavily against Fuji's thigh, and when Fuji slowly ran a finger down Ryoma's sensitive stomach, Ryoma's muscles clenched and his hips bucked up, making his leg brush against Fuji, and this made the brunet hiss at the stinging pleasure that spread like wildfire throughout his body.

Ryoma pulled away slightly, breathing hard and trembling from exertion and the cold, "We shouldn't. Door's open. I'm sick."

Fuji looked down at him, blue eyes filled with amusement, "You never cared before."

Ryoma only stared for a moment, before he released his hold on Fuji and fell back onto the bed, "Hnn," he hummed and Fuji smiled, knowing this was as far as he was going to get today as Ryoma closed his eyes and fell asleep without so much as a word of warning.

"Hah," Fuji laughed, pushing a lock of dark hair out of Ryoma's face, "How cute."

* * *

"Hoi, hoi! Ochibi! Welcome back!" Eiji cried happily and he quickly bounded over to where the younger boy was changing into his tennis uniform, "We missed you!"

Momo, who was already dressed out and waiting for Ryoma, nodded his head with a slight frown, "Yeah, it's really rare that you're sick. And it's May. Of course it's just like the great Ryoma-sama to not get sick on the right seasons, yeah?"

"You make me sound like the Monkey King."

And Fuji walked in, dressed in his tennis uniform and smiling his usual, cheerful smile, "Tezuka told me to tell you guys to hurry up," he chimed.

Eiji grinned at the appearance of his best friend and immediately wrapped his arm around Ryoma's neck, ignoring the boy's squawk of protest, and said in a teasing tone, "It's a miracle Fuji didn't get sick too! Seeing as you two can't keep your hands off of each other on a normal day."

Unfazed by Eiji's jibe, Fuji gave a small shrug and held him hands behind his back in an innocent gesture, "I'm guessing we just didn't go far enough that day," he chuckled when Eiji's grin morphed into a leer, "But I couldn't push Echizen too hard when he was sick. At least he's all better now, isn't that right?"

"Are you sure you didn't unknowingly catch Ochibi's cold?"

Fuji paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, "I can't say. Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," and he turned to Ryoma who was looking over his racket with a disinterested eye, "What do you think Echizen?"

Ryoma craned his neck around to look at Fuji and deadpanned, "I told you before, Fuji-senpai," and his lips curled into his usual haughty smirk, "Idiots don't catch colds."

"... ... so mean."

-end-

I'm sorry this is late. Looooove you.


End file.
